


in my hour of darkness, she'll be my light

by OnlyMyThoughtsForCompany



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Ginny being a great gf, Harry getting the comfort he deserves, Hinny being cute basically, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Canon, Pre-Epilogue, excessive use of commas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyMyThoughtsForCompany/pseuds/OnlyMyThoughtsForCompany
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry disappears, and it's up Ginny to find him again.





	in my hour of darkness, she'll be my light

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the art Weary by burdge which you can find here: https://burdge.deviantart.com/art/weary-197206590

He was gone.

The thought raced through Ginny’s head making her blood run cold as she stared blankly at the obviously empty four-poster bed.  Trying to fight down her mounting panic, Ginny ripped back the curtains of the other beds, just in case Harry had, in his exhausted state, had mistaken his bed for another, before finally checking the bathroom, only to find it, as she had feared, equally empty.

It had been two days since the battle had finally ended and Harry had been asleep for most of them, only ever waking for a moment at a time to mumble a few incoherent words and turn over.  It had terrified them all when first ten hours had passed, then fifteen and finally a full twenty-four had passed without him showing any indication that he was going to wake up.  But Madam Pomfrey had been up several times to check on him and according to her other than a few cuts and scrapes, and some bruises including a nasty black one right over his heart, he was completely fine.  Exhausted, but fine.

So they had let him sleep, he had deserved it after all, as the rest of them had helped tend to the wounded, collect bodies from the ground, and even begin restoring the castle.  Hating to be away from him for even an hour after months separated, Ginny had taken every opportunity she could get in between busy hours of hard work to sit with him.

And now he was gone.

She raced down the steps, blessedly untouched from the battle, and spilled down into the common room, drawing stares from her family.  The sight of them all together drew her up short and for a moment she was so stunned that she forgot what had sent her down into the common room in the first place.

They hadn’t spent much time together as a family since the end of the battle, each choosing to deal with Fred’s loss in their own way.  George had taken to wandering the grounds of Hogwarts for hours on end, reappearing only for the occasional meal, but as long as he came back they let him do it, none of them truly able to understand what he was going through.  Her mother had spent the first day obsessively checking and re-checking the injuries on each of her children and when they’d inevitably shooed her away had decided to help Madam Pomfrey tend to the injured.  Ron had spent a lot of his time with Hermione, their relationship a new and untainted refuge for him.  The rest of them had channeled their grief into the restoration of the castle, perhaps not the healthiest way to cope but it worked for them, burying their feelings in the long hours and gruelling work.  They’d all been eating at different times, and going to bed early, and none of them had been too interested in getting them all together again, perhaps because it only served to illuminate more clearly Fred’s absence.

“Ginny?” one of them asked, as they all rose to their feet, tired eyes darting around to search on instinct for a threat.

But Ginny couldn’t reassure them, not through the haze of panic and  _ Harry, where’s Harry!   _ Her eyes roved over the crowd crammed into the room, hoping wildly that she might of missed seeing him on her way up to the common room.

“Gin, what is it?”

“Harry,” she rasped, eyes scanning the room again, as though she might have possibly missed him the first time.  “He’s gone.”

A worried murmur passed through the whole room, who had apparently been listening in, and the Weasley’s shared troubled looks.

Ever the reasonable one Arthur was the one to speak calmly, “I’m sure he’s just in the Great Hall.  He probably woke up and was ravenous and wandered down to get something to eat.”

The idea was as plausible as any other, though for some reason Ginny had her doubts, but with no reasonable excuse, she conceded and trooped down with the others to the Great Hall.  But he wasn’t there.  Nor was he in the hospital wing where they thought he might of been checking in with Madam Pomfrey.  And so they began to check other common areas of the castle, and then, when they turned up empty, other not-so-common places, people joining the search until soon over half of those still residing in the castle were looking for him.

Hours passed but Harry never turned up and worry amongst the searchers quickly descended into panic.  He was their beloved Chosen One and saviour, but more than that, Harry was a friend to most of them and they all just wanted him to be ok.

Hermione found Ginny late in the afternoon, just as the sun began to near the horizon, taking a ten minute break after which she planned to track down George and get him to help her search every secret passageway that he knew of.  Her footsteps echoed in the deserted Great Hall, signalling her approach as she neared where Ginny had sat, out of habit, at the old Gryffindor table.  Setting a mug of hot chocolate in front of her friend, Hermione took a seat, looking oddly calm.

“You don’t look very worried,” Ginny said, a note of accusation in her voice but she took the drink regardless.  Her eyes slid shut at the first taste and a noise of contentment escaped her, the creamy taste exactly what she needed after a day of barely eating.

Hermione didn’t look offended at the accusation and only smiled slightly.  “I know Harry.  He’s probably found someplace quiet to think.”

The thought hadn’t escaped Ginny but there were other, more terrifying possibilities that had been running through her head all afternoon.  “I’m just scared, that now that Voldemort is gone, something he’s been working for for so long, and with everything he’s been through…”

“You think Harry might try to hurt himself?” Hermione asked gently.

Ginny looked away and down at her drink.

“I’ve been friends with Harry for a long time,” Hermione said finally.  Ginny resisted the irrational urge to bite back ‘me too’ and instead remained quiet.  “And even when things were at its worst,” she continued and Ginny knew they were both thinking of their fifth year and that horrible summer, and Umbridge, and losing Sirius.  “He never spoke of or even hinted at… anything like that.”

“He’s just lost so much,” Ginny whispered brokenly, feeling tears prick at her eyes as her heart broke thinking about his parents, and Sirius, and Remus, all of whom were gone now.  Hermione’s arm slid around her shoulders while she swiped furiously at her eyes.

“He hasn’t lost you,” Hermione said earnestly.  “Or me.  Or Ron.  Our family, Neville, Luna, we’re all still here and Harry knows that.”

Ginny sniffled her way to a smile and brushed away the last of her tears.  “Do you ever get sick of being right?” she asked her friend.

Hermione smiled.  “Never.”

They lapsed into quiet, both absorbed by their own thoughts, and sipped at their hot chocolates.

“You know, o wise one,” Ginny joked with a thick voice.  “You never did work out where Harry might be.”

Hermione shrugged.  “Some place quiet.  Somewhere he feels safe.  Somewhere with happy memories.”  She drained the last dregs from her mug, set it aside and stood.

“Where are you going?”

“Ron’s been working on the room of requirement for a couple of hours now.  Someone’s definitely in there, but the problem is people have been sleeping in there until they can get back to their homes so we have no way of knowing if it’s Harry or someone else.  Guess all we can do is keep trying.”

“A couple of hours, huh?” Ginny mused, playing absently with the handle of her mug.  “Ron’s got to be frustrated by now.”

“You bet,” Hermione said with a faint smile.  “I think he might of broken his foot kicking the wall at one point.”  She paused, looking uncertain for a moment.  “I should probably get back to him before he breaks the other one.”  Still she hesitated and Ginny knew Hermione was worried about her.

“Go,” she laughed, waving her off.  Ron needed all the help he could and besides Ginny wouldn’t mind being alone for a few minutes.

She watched Hermione go, the heavy doors thudding closed behind her before turning back to last of her hot chocolate.

Somewhere quiet, Ginny mused silently.  Somewhere he felt safe, with happy memories.  Mentally she ran through a list of places he used to like to hang out, eventually ruling them all out as either too public, having been ruined by the battle, or already having checked it.  Then she remembered suddenly one place they used to frequent back in that brief, happy time they’d been together at Hogwarts.  Simultaneously smiling to herself and cursing herself for not thinking of it earlier, she leapt up from the table and hurried away.

The grounds of Hogwarts were spotted with people, many calling Harry’s name as they checked nooks and crannies of the lawns, peering into small alcoves, and in the distance, even venturing into the edges of the forest.  Knowing her history with Harry, many of them offered her sympathetic smiles or words of encouragement, and she managed brief smiles in return as hurried around the perimeter of the lake.

Right on the edge of the lake, round near the edge of the ground, and further than most were ever bothered to venture was a small patch of weeping willows.  And hidden behind the first layer of draping fronds was a small bench that she and Harry had used when they had wanted to get away from all the stares and whispers.  They never could work out how many people knew about the secluded spot, they’d never been interrupted while they were there, but carvings of names and hearts into the wood had shown that others had been there at some point.  Ginny glanced behind her furtively to ensure that no one was looking before sweeping back the curtain of cool branches that tickled her skin and ducked inside.

And as she had expected there was Harry, sitting calmly and looking out over the lake in his private corner of the world.  He didn’t look around, though he must of heard the swish of parting willows, and her soft footfalls and Ginny wondered if he were ignoring her, or perhaps didn’t care who it was, or if maybe he hadn’t noticed her at all, lost in his thoughts as he was.

Moving slowly, she approached him from behind, rounding the bench and kneeling silently before him.  His eyes never strayed from the rippling water of the lake but a deep and wavering sigh shuddered through him, the first and only outward sign that he noticed her presence at all.

Still, Ginny didn’t speak, not yet, for the broken and fragile look in Harry’s eyes stole her voice from her, and even if she could speak she didn’t know what she would say.  She knew that he had to be thinking about his parents, and Sirius, and Remus, and those countless bodies they’d pulled from the grounds.

“Harry,” she breathed and his eyes slid closed, looking pained, while her hand found first his knee and then his hand, calluses from years of playing Quidditch pressed against her own.  

She squeezed gently but received nothing in response and on instinct her other hand rose to his shoulder, then slid to his neck, to feel the thud of his pulse against her palm, to remind herself that he was here, that he was alive, but also to remind him that she was  _ here,  _ and that she would stand by him.  Her thumb rubbed absently at his jaw, feeling several days worth of stubble there, and just for a moment, eyes still closed, he leaned into her touch.  Ginny froze, afraid to break the moment but regardless, Harry straightened of his own accord and his eyes opened again, staring blankly past her and at the lake again.

Sensing the change in him, Ginny managed a small sad smile, squeezed his hand again and stood.  She took a few steps, but before she could stop herself, a hand of hers was working its way through his hair, longer than he usually kept and no doubt a result of his months on the run and her head was ducking to press a kiss to the crown of his head.  The strands were damp beneath her lips and smelled faintly of shampoo, telling her that he’d been in a rational enough frame of mind that morning to at least have a shower and wash away the grime of the battle.  She remained there for a moment, just breathing in the smell of him.  The words were on the tip of her tongue, three little words, that she had never gotten to say to him but she bit them back.  He wasn’t ready to hear them yet and there would be days, and months, and years to tell him over and over again that she loved him.

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath and withdrew, ready to leave him to his thoughts, and tell the others that he was alright.  But again she didn’t make it far before a hand was clasping around her risk, and holding her insistently in place.  Harry’s eyes still hadn’t left the lake but he had reached behind for her, the message of his grip clear,  _ stay with me.   _ And it would have taken a herd of raging hippogriffs to keep her away.

Another sound shuddered it’s way free from Harry as she rounded the bench, even more ragged and pained than the last.  Then another, a sob, as she slid into his lap just in time for him to bury his face against her shoulder, her catching a glimpse of the way it crumpled before it disappeared.  

Outside their little cocoon of safety, voices still called for Harry, but they seemed further away now, as though part of another world.  And here in their world, Ginny just held Harry as he shook and sobbed, comforting him as finally let it all out.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my WIP folder for months and I was suddenly hit with inspiration. Idk but I think it has something to do with the studying I'm supposed to be doing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, leave a comment and let me know xx


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